Comments about Rachel Lyman Field

And The Place Thereof

This small house fitted him like some square shellWeathered and worn, as if it somehow boreHis very likeness, but no smoke thread mounts;He will not stand in greeting at the doorAs he stood, gaunt and smiling, three days back.He has no need now of the wood he piled;The water pail and dipper, the small storeOf china on the shelf; the rocker there.The bed-quilt will not warm him any more